When I got to the deck this afternoon, in a stolen hour between work and visiting my favorite curmudgeon, the sun had tucked itself behind a flimsy cloud. Its rays pour down on me full force now. I feel a bit sleepy, warm and indolent. A long week trudges to a close. The days have challenged me, sometimes clubbing me with their iron fists, sometimes touching me with the rising memory of other summer sunshine.
Out in the summer sun, I stop to wave at a neighbor and bid him good day, teasing him a bit about his banker’s hours. On the other side of the street, I hear a couple who has lived here as long as I have calling to each other, from porch to car. The edges of our sewn flag raise in the breeze. I lift my face to the sun’s caress. It’s Friday in Brookside. What bothers me might lurk just out of sight, but for now, I can ignore it and let the heat woo me to a gentle drowsiness.